


Someone said true love was dead, but I'm bound to fall for you

by GingerHoran



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: First Love, I Love You, M/M, cuteness, fluffy sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:02:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerHoran/pseuds/GingerHoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kisses can be translated, they can be a hello, goodnight and a goodbye.</p><p>Zayn gives Niall his first 'I Love You' kisses, and Niall's possibly a little bit addicted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone said true love was dead, but I'm bound to fall for you

  
Kisses can be translated, they can be a hello, goodnight and a goodbye. Niall likes Zayn's 'hello' kisses the best, they're sugary and sweet, and leave Niall running his fingers over his bottom lip with the memory.

The goodnight kisses always have roaming hands, and a little bit of tongue and teeth and passion; leaving Niall gasping for breath, a red flush all the way down to his chest. Zayn'll look at him with a lazy, doe-eyed smile before rolling over, tugging Niall against his chest and mumbling a "Goodnight Ni," into his blond tufts of hair.

Although Niall loves Zayn's kisses, all of them. His goodbye kisses aren't something he likes, there full of clutched fabric, salty tears and the kiss is rough and long and deep but it's not the kiss he hates; it's the way Zayn caresses his face, runs his fingers through his hair, the younger boy tucked beneath his chin with that dreaded word whispered into his ear.

"Goodbye."

-  
Niall has these large, fluffy long cuffed sweaters which hang of off his wrists, and rest against his thighs, and they're warm, and cinnamony and Zayn's happy he's stolen one to dream with.

He cuddles into the fabric one morning, it's around 5am and only soft snores resonate around his family home, no scent of coffee, or giggles or girlish cries just a breathy silence.

There are little raindrops dribbling like tears down the window, and Zayn watches with intense fascination as he sits with his knees tucked beneath his chin, the sleeves of that cable knit sweater warming his cool cheeks as he presses up tight against the glass.

The scent sends shivers through his body, he misses the smell of nutty cinnamon in Niall's damp hair after a shower, the breathy mint from brushed teeth-kisses, those little cuddles after work and greasy fries as they watch old Disney movies on an old VCR.

Something's always been missing though, a little phrase, that risky three words, but Zayn feels it, he feels those three words bubbling in his throat, at the base of his stomach erupting into flames. The feelings burning brightly, he needs to let out the smoke, release the energy.

Needs to tell Niall.

-

The doorbell rings, insistent and blaring around the little house, and Niall's drags himself from the bed with a whimper of sleep, his bare feet dragging across the cold wooden flooring to the front door, eyes half-lidded and curses tumbling from his lips.

Zayn's stood at the door, wrapped up in a bundle of scarfs and gloves against the blistering October weather. He blushes slightly, looking down at Niall's scrunched and confused face.

"Zayn?"

"Yeah," he replies, and Niall chuckles lowly under his breath reaching out to bring the taller boy out of the porch where the lights are flickering because he can't be bothered to change them. Zayn falls into his arms with a sigh, and Niall's wearing another one of those ridiculous sweaters, the scent warms his shivering bones as he tucks his face into Niall's collarbones and simply breathes.

"Miss me, 'aye?"Niall whispers into the raven hair that's soft and fluffy, free from the products that overflow his bathroom even though Zayn doesn't even live with him, he has seemed to accumulate several bottles of gel and spray.

Zayn hums in reply now contentedly warm, lifting his face from the junction between Niall's neck and chest, to gaze at the boy with the golden hairs and dark roots, and watery blue eyes like a cerulean crystal.

Niall smiles crooked and shy, and Zayn once again feels the three words fluttering like butterflies in his stomach, he wants to let them free and unlike the other times, he's not scared because he sees the love in those blue eyes, he feels it with every chapped lip kiss in the snow, every cheesy cuddle by the electric heater and every goddamn smile that feels like hot chocolate on Christmas.

"I love you"

And Niall thinks these kisses are now his favourite, it's sweet like honey dripping stickily, it's long and deep and passionate, but the thing that hits Niall is the burning honesty on his own lips, it flows like warmth along his toes and he's blushing mid kiss wrapping his arms around Zayn's neck wanting more more more.

"I love you," he mumbles with shy delight when he's pulled away gasping lightly, resting his forehead against his boyfriends, Zayn's eyes are blown wide with hazel and they're green and grey and like a splattered pain bucket, and Niall's in love.

Those 'I Love You' kisses are his favourite.

 

 


End file.
